


Mystery Fortress

by AppleofDiscord88



Category: Pokemon Mystery Dungeon, Team Fortress 2
Genre: Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Supernatural - Freeform, Unique Narration, crossover fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5743423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleofDiscord88/pseuds/AppleofDiscord88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two universes are about to collide! A prophesy has been made, heralding the arrival of nine humans from another world. Not just that, but a valuable trinket has been stolen from the Team Fortress 2 universe. With assistance from an outside force, the mercenaries of the RED team travel to the world of Pokemon in order to recover said trinket. However, upon their arrival, the team have unwillingly been turned into Pokemon themselves. With the help of an Eevee and a shiny Riolu, the mercs join the exploration guild in order to find the trinket while learning how to survive in their new forms. But the longer they stay, the more they realise that there seems to be much more at stake than just a stolen trinket...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_A long time ago, there once existed a special jewel, said to hold great power. This jewel was called the Vivillon Trinket, so named because it was in the shape of a Vivillon. The Vivillon Trinket was known to bring out the true power of Pokémon. But during the First Dark Wars, the evil entity, Dark Matter, seized control of the Vivillon Trinket. Its power was corrupted, and many Pokémon ended up being drawn to that corruption. After Dark Matter was defeated the first time, the ancient Pokémon, Mew, and sole human who took part in the war removed the Vivillon Trinket from this world. It was thought to be lost for centuries, but recent evidence suggests that the Vivillon Trinket is simply in another world, waiting for the day when it can finally be purged of the corruption Dark Matter inflicted on it…_

 “Vivillon Trinket…I heard that name before. Where have I heard it?” An Eevee murmured to herself as she closed the book with her paw. She looked around the library in deep thought. All her life she had been coming here to this very library and read nearly every book there was on Pokémon history. Now she was looking for the one book that also mentioned the Vivillon Trinket. The only problem was where she last saw it, and she had hoped to find it before she and her partner were assigned a new mission. She read so many books that she had lost track of where everything was. That book could be anywhere on the shelves, or worse it could have gotten burnt to a crisp, or whatever way books could get destroyed. The chances of finding the book were slim. If only she had paid more attention to the titles…

“Karisa, are you here?” A youthful male voice said from behind.

The Eevee, now known as Karisa, quickly placed the book back on the shelf where she got it from and trotted over to her partner, a shiny Riolu, who was waiting for her by the entrance.

“How did you know where to find me, Taji?” She asked.

“I’ve known you since you first moved here,” Riolu, named Taji, said with a roll of his eyes, “You come here nearly all the time. It’s the first place you go to before we get an assignment.”

“I don’t _always_ come here.” Karisa said, pouting.

“Right…you’re _occasionally_ not here,” Taji said with an amused smirk. Karisa huffed at this but smiled a little herself in amusement, “Anyway, we should probably get going on our assignment. You know the guild doesn’t like its members slacking off when it comes to assignments.”

Karisa would protest that going to the library to read up on history wasn’t considered slacking off, but bit back that remark to replace it with a sigh, “Alright, what mission do we need to do?”

Taji scratched his head, “Actually, it’s more of an errand than a mission. The Kecleon Mart has been running low on berries, and the brothers are too busy with customers to get more,” He explained, “So, the Guildmaster wants us to go to Berry Forest and get some berries for them.”

Berry Forest was on the outskirts of the town. By foot, it was a one mile walk from here, a much different journey than travelling to regions and lands that were much further away from home.

Karisa nodded, “Doesn’t sound like a problem.” She said with a grin, “Do we need to get any specific berries?”

“Yes, we need to get some Persim and Oran berries, plus Pecha berries if we can find some.”

“I thought those kind of berries only grew in warmer climates.”

“I said the same thing. Which was why they said if we can find some.”

“Alright. Do we you have a basket?”

Taji held out a large basket, “The brothers gave me on when I went to see them. Now, let’s go.”

And so, the two sole members of Team Daybreak exited the library. They walked through the town, out of the gates and into the forest where they will surely find some berries.

* * *

 

 Elsewhere, in an unknown location the narrator never bothered to give a name to, far from the town, a lone Purrloin was placing a golden ring on the ground. This was it. After months of painstaking research, he had found where it was. Finally, everything was coming into place. It was dim, but the light from the four candles surrounding the golden ring cast a faint glow onto him, much more convenient than using a couple of Litwick to illuminate the room. It had been easy to find the exact methods of retrieving the object he was looking for. It was convincing _him_ to use the ring that had been difficult. It had been days and days of failure and begging. He had to convince _him_ in the most convincing way possible that using the ring was the only way to retrieve their desired object. But he succeeded in convincing _him_ , after lots of effort.

Still…it was going to be interesting to see what another world was like, a world that was completely different from their own. Some say there were little to no Pokémon at all in certain worlds, others say your physical form changes to suit the conditions of some worlds. He wondered if that was really true. That was something he would have to look into later, but for now he had other business to attend to.

“My lord, everything is ready.” The Purrloin said to the silhouette floating in the corner of the dimly lit room. Again, the narrator never bothered to give this figure a name or species. It could be any Pokémon really. The narrator hopes it is something cute, and can kill others in cold blood. There is such a thing as cute, psychotic creatures you know.

“Very good.” The figure said, “However, I must be frank with you one last time. You are making a risk in doing something like this. If the Trinket isn’t in that universe like you say it is…”

“I am aware of the implications, my lord,” Purrloin interjected, “But this time we have proof that it is this very universe, one that was in close proximity to our own universe, one that had the Trinket right under our noses, and we didn’t even realise it until now! Now is the chance to take back what is rightfully ours! But I can’t do it unless you activate your ring. You’re the only one who can do that.”  

“…Very well. If you insist.” The figure stretched out its arms and uttered a chant in the ancient language of Unown.

It is at this point that the narrator wonders why they ever considered putting magical elements in a world of talking, mutant, Japanese-drawn creatures, but chose to let it slide in favour of focusing on the effect the chant had on the ring. The ring floated up in the air, and suddenly grew in size. It continued to grow until it was just big enough to activate a portal. Through the swirly-colourful-see through-thingy that was the portal, the obviously villainous duo in this fic could make out the two forts, red and blue respectively, joined together by a bridge, and various humans in red who looked very identical to the humans in blue fighting each other. If you figured out that the portal led to the Team Fortress 2 universe, then congratulations, you don’t need a detailed yet boring description.

“Perfect.” The Purrloin said with a devilish grin.

And so began the story of the collision of two completely different worlds, joined together by humour, drama and romance! ...Okay, maybe not romance, but you get the idea.


	2. Chapter 1

And so we come here to the main story, after the prologue. Or rather this is where the readers come, since the narrator doesn’t really go anywhere. The narrator is the one who’s just telling the story. The narrator is now getting side-tracked.

A universe away, far from the World of Pokémon, there was a world similar to Earth. In fact, this world was also named Earth. The only thing about this Earth that made it stand apart from our Earth was that it was perpetually stuck in the late-sixties. And most of the people here are idiots. Yes, the sixties Earth is an idiot colony. The narrator feels like they’re the only one who knew that.

But enough about that. For the remainder of this chapter, the viewers will focus their attention on 2Fort. A simple yet important area somewhere in the middle of the desert in Badlands, New Mexico. There’s nothing special about this place. In short, it’s just two bases facing each other in opposite sides of the area. The bases were separated by a lake with a bridge over it. There’s also the surprisingly spacious sewage system underneath the bases. In short, 2Fort is kind of a dump.

Nothing special happens in 2Fort…well, _almost_ nothing special. There are nine mercenaries with few moral restraints who fight their nine colour-coded doppelgangers over gravel on a daily basis but that’s pretty much it…on second thought, of course that’s something big! We’re talking about a group of professional killers who fight another group of professional killers with shotguns, rocket launchers, pistols, baseball bats, surgical equipment, and laser guns. They also have a bizarre fascination with hats for some reason. The narrator thinks it borders on an unhealthy obsession, but they’re not going to go into too much detail about hats, otherwise it will throw the plot completely off course.

Now, the mercs had just finished a match they were fighting in called ‘Capture the Flag’, or in their case, capture the Intelligence, because the ‘flag’ isn’t really a flag. It’s a coloured-coded briefcase that contains God knows what. The objective of the team was to capture the briefcase of the enemy team and take it back to their base, all without getting killed. Something which happens to the mercs a lot. On both sides. The only upside to these comical yet lethal matches was that they had respawn to bring them back to life whenever they got killed. This was something that more or less happened to them all the time. They’re kind of used to dying at this point.

As the narrator was saying, the mercs had just finished an intensive match of capturing each other’s briefcases. The RED team (The narrator made these guys the main protagonists in this fic, because let’s face, they pretty much _are_ the protagonists in any media) came out as the victors in the match and were finishing up for the day.

The RED Engineer – called ‘Engie’ by most of his teammates – was packing up his buildings in his toolbox and moving them to the supply room. The Pyro assisted him by carrying one of his toolboxes, “Whoo-wee! That match sure came out in our favour in the end!”

“Mumph murr hudduh mmph?” The Pyro asked a question in how they usually say things; by opening their mouth and talking through a gas mask.

“Nah, I can manage by myself from here, Py. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up later.” The Pyro gave Engie their signature thumbs up and left the supply room in the direction of the cafeteria. That left Engie alone in the supply room. He took out his Destruction PDA and pressed the large red button. His buildings promptly blew up inside their toolboxes. There was plenty of metal in their base. The Engineer, being the Engineer, could simply make more buildings the next time there was a match. That was the beauty of constructing something.

He was just leaving the supply room when he heard not-so-quiet voices coming from near the place where the sewers were located – from the sewer room to be exact.

“Aw hell, what now?” He said to himself. It was probably some wayward BLU trying to sneak a surprise attack on the base again out of revenge. The RED team had a history of the BLU team attacking them outside of matches, and it wouldn’t come as too much of a surprise for him if they were at it again. Lamenting the idea of ever getting to dinner, he took out his shotgun and headed towards the sewer.

There were definitely voices coming from the sewer room alright. From their tones, it sounded as though they were arguing amongst themselves than actually planning to attack. With this in mind, Engie was slowly starting to feel that these voices belonged to his own team than the BLUs.

To further relax his sudden alertness, the RED Demoman came running down the narrow tunnel towards him, “Engie, lad! Thank God ya came down here! We need yer help with somethin’!”

“Why? What happened?” Engie asked.

“See for yerself.”

So, Demo led Engie over to the sewer room, and to the Texan’s surprise, he saw Soldier having a spat war with Scout. At least it could’ve been a spat war had Scout’s head not been stuck in a wall. The Spy was looking on with mild amusement.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t pushed me!”

“There was a Spy in the sewers! All Spies need to be eliminated!”

“There was no Spy! It was just a freakin’ can!”

Engie stared in disbelief at the stuck Scout for about thirty before snapping out of his stupor, “Scout? What in Sam’s Hill did you do to yourself?”

“Hardhat? Oh, thank God you’re here!” Scout’s voice said through the wall. From the tone of his voice, he sounded relieved that Engie was now in the sewers as well.

“Scout’s head is stuck in a wall!” Soldier exclaimed, once again pointing out the obvious.

“No shit, Sherlock!”

“I can see that, but _how_?”

Now, Scout faced a dilemma. He could tell the Texan how he got in this situation in the first place. Said situation involved the BLU Pyro, Soldier’s impulsiveness and BLU Pyro’s blow function in their flamethrower which had enough velocity to fling Scout backwards and crash into the sewer room wall, hence his current predicament. Of course Scout, being the Scout, refused to give Engie a full explanation, on account of his ego.

So, he went with the ‘straight to the point’ answer instead, “Never mind that! Just get my head outta this freakin’ wall!”

Engie for his part would’ve preferred a more broader answer than that, but knowing the most headstrong member of their team won’t give him a full answer, decided to not press the subject, “Uh, right…Spy, go down to the cafeteria and get some butter. I reckon we need it.”

“Oui, Monsieur. But first…” Spy took out a camera and took a picture of the unfortunate victim in the wall. But Scout heard the click of the camera from the other side.

“What the hell was that click?! Spy, you better not be takin’ pictures of this! Spy?! Spy!” And so the masked assassin left with the Engineer and Demoman, leaving Scout to rant, swear and bang his fists against the wall, hoping to get out on his own and give Spy a piece of his mind for taking such an embarrassing picture. He’ll never hear the end of it if the others saw it.

But rather than let the team get some butter to aide Scout, fate had other plans in assisting him. More specifically, Soldier had other plans in assisting him. Said plan involved noticing a BLU Stickybomb that was left abandoned on the wall unnoticed. And not so coincidently, that very Stickybomb was right beside Scout. And thus, a plan formed in the Soldier’s less-than-sane head as he slowly took out his Rocket Launcher and aimed it at the Stickybomb.

* * *

 

Somewhere in Badlands, the Administrator, also known as Helen, or ‘The Lady Everyone Dreads’ was relaxing after another day’s work of announcing the matches for the idiots who work for her. She relished the silence by having one of her finer cigarettes today. She knew the silence wouldn’t last long, as her assistant will be arriving with the new equipment any minute today, but it was the savouring of the silence that mattered.

Then bang on time, the sound of Miss Pauling, her assistant, coming into the surveillance room was heard. Accompanying her was a wagon filled with various weapons all stolen from Mann Co.

“Did you get them?” The Administrator asked as her usual way of greeting Miss Pauling.

“Yes, ma’am. They’re all here and accounted for.” Miss Pauling said as she removed one of the weapons from the wagon.

“Good. I told you it would be a waste of time negotiating with him.”

“Do you think the mercs will like them? I was told they were very valuable.”

The Administrator snorted, “It doesn’t matter about their value, just as long as they keep the mercs from complaining about having the same thing.”

“Right.” Miss Pauling said. There was no point in arguing with the Administrator. Anyone who tried to argue with her would end up in a shallow grave, and that was something the very few employees of TF Industries tried to avoid on a daily basis.

“Miss Administrator! Miss Administrator!” At that moment, the messenger, Bob, came running into the room. Now, Bob was unique among the main characters in this story. He was an adolescent, barely fifteen years of age, and the latest in a long line of TF Industries messengers all killed for various and mysterious reasons. Though it’s less of a mystery when their deaths always have something to do with the mercs.

That said, the Administrator would’ve thought twice before hiring a teenager as a messenger for her and nine mercenaries with questionable levels of sanity. Unfortunately, the Administrator doesn’t have a conscience and hired Bob anyway, partly because he agreed to work with minimum wage, partly because the mercs don’t harm civilians, including minors, and partly because Bob had the annoying yet _very_ beneficial habit of surviving lethal incidents. Yep, that’s Bob in a nutshell!

“Miss Administrator, I come with a message!” Bob declared as if he was making a speech from a balcony.

“Well, obviously,” The Administrator said with contempt, “You’re a messenger.”

Bob took out an envelope, opened the seal, and read the letter out loud, “’To Helen from Saxton Hale; Helen, you chain-smoking seductress, the thing our architects have dug up in Badlands has been delivered to your headquarters. It’s outside the door right now. Really. Go have a look if you don’t trust me. I wrecked a plane and beat the living crap outta three hippies just to get it to you. And I’ve personally placed this letter in the hands of your spineless messenger boy just to tell you in advance. Seriously, your messenger boy is a bloody wimp. It makes me sad inside just looking at him.’”

“So, it’s been delivered,” The Administrator mused aloud ignoring the other bits of dialogue that was written in the letter, “Perhaps that oaf isn’t as forgetful as I’ve always imagined him to be. Is there anything else he said?”

“Yes,” Bob continued reading, “’On a completely different subject, how about you and I go out for a steak dinner tonight and then get laid together, you seductive piece of-“

“Yes, Bob, that will be all.” The Administrator closed her eyes in disgust.

“I, uh, wasn’t finished reading the letter…”

“I know, and I don’t care.”

The look on Bob’s face was like that of a dog that had his bone taken away from him. It was the look he always made when he never got a chance to read a full letter. Miss Pauling for her part noted that Hale didn’t mention anything about his rare collection of weapons being stolen. It was safe to presume she got away with it.

At that moment, a small explosion was seen near the RED base on one of the monitors. Sewage water gushed like a fountain from the small hole that was made and a Scout’s scream could be heard from underneath. Bob let out a yelp in response while the Administrator just closed her eyes in exasperation. What have those idiots in RED done now?

“Miss Pauling, go down to the RED base and find out what has happened,” The Administrator said, “And take the new delivery outside with you.” She decided first hand that the REDs will be assigned to watch the delivery, so might as well make Miss Pauling take it with her while investigating that sudden incident.

“Yes, ma’am,” Miss Pauling replied and walked off to do what she was told.

“And Bob…”

“Yes, Miss Administrator?” Bob asked after he regained his composure.

“Carry the weapons over to the Contract Room. And careful with that wagon. There are valuables in there.”

* * *

 

For some people, this would be one of those situations where they prefer not to get involved in. But for Miss Pauling, it was just another one of those days. From what she picked up on what Engie had told her, Scout had somehow got his head stuck in a wall down in the sewers. Engie and the others intended to use butter to slide the roadrunner’s head out, but Soldier had…um… _another_ solution, hence the explosion. Not only did it left a small hole in the ground in front of their base, but it also caused Scout to blow up to bits and get sent to respawn.

Now, you’d be expecting a scene on the aftermath of Soldier’s solution, but due to budget cuts, the narrator is unable to give you this scene in much detail. The narrator will only explain the basic events that followed: Scout got pissed. Scout and Soldier had a fight. Scout accused Soldier of trying to kill him while Soldier defended his idea, saying it got Scout’s head out. Then Soldier strangled Scout, accusing him of hating America. It was only after the rest of the team pried them apart did Miss Pauling have a long, detailed talk with Soldier on why it was not a good idea to set off stray Stickybombs to help people. But this being the Soldier, it flew completely over his head.

And now that was out of the way, Miss Pauling could go on to the real reason why she came to the RED base. On the rectangular table sat a glass case containing a hand-sized silver butterfly-like creature with giant wings and long antenna. The butterfly was clutching a jet-black gem in its stubby arms. The nine mercenaries of Team RED gathered around the unusual object while Miss Pauling explained to them what they needed to do with it. Bob the messenger joined them a little while later after putting the weapons Miss Pauling had stolen into the Contract Room. He was there mostly because the Administrator told him to deliver a message to the team.

“Gentlemen,” Miss Pauling began, “this is a genuine state-of-the-art artefact that out Mann Co. architects founded a week ago while excavating in Landfall.”

“…A trinket?” Spy enquired, looking unimpressed. The Pyro made an ‘Ooooohhhhh’ sound and reached out towards the glass case that contained the shiny trinket, only to have their hand swatted away by Miss Pauling.

“Yes, it may look like an ordinary trinket, but the architects believe that it contains energy of some kind, similar to Australium.”

While Miss Pauling explained to the mercs what was so special about the trinket, Bob heard a rustling noise behind him. The others didn’t seem to hear anything, especially Scout, who was once again displaying love-struck eyes at Miss Pauling. He turned his head slightly to see what the noise was, but found nothing except a pile of boxes and an empty Flare Gun. Bob frowned and turned back to the current topic. It was probably just Medic’s doves flying around the base again.

“So, how exactly does this here jewel have to do with us?” Engie asked, lifting his helmet slightly to get a better look at the trinket.

“Simple. Our top researchers are currently on a three-week break, so they won’t be able to do any investigating for a while. Until they return, the Administrator is putting you in charge of guarding the trinket from anyone who might try and steal it. She said this is mandatory, so you _have_ to guard it.”

“And if we refuse?” Spy asked.

“Um, that’s why I’m here,” Bob said, raising his hand slight and smiling sheepishly, “She told me to tell you guys that if you refuse to guard the artefact or fail to guard the artefact, she will cut back on your paycheques, and all of you will be forced to work without pay for the remainder of your contracts.”

There was about a minute of silence as Bob’s message/threat to the team sunk in. Some of them really weren’t in the mood to guard some jewel that had nothing to do with them whatsoever. But on the other hand, working without pay was a fate worse than respawn, especially if said threat came from the Administrator through Bob.

“We really don’t have a choice then.” The Spy concluded.

“Then it’s settled,” Miss Pauling said, “The artefact will remain here until the researchers return. And remember to take turns guarding it.” With that, the team was dismissed and they slowly dispersed from the table and scattered out from different directions to do their own activities. Unknown to the team and Miss Pauling, but known to the audience and narrator, that trinket would cause some havoc and chaos around the RED base.

* * *

 

Meanwhile, behind the pile of boxes that Bob saw earlier, a cream-coloured, rabbit-like creature was eavesdropping on the conversation that was going on. When he and the others heard that the trinket was indeed in another world, they wasted no time in opening a portal to said world. Only this creature was chosen to go on this mission, thinking that he wouldn’t attract too much attention because he was smaller in size than everyone else. For days, he had travelled this world, trying to find the special trinket. It needed to be found, for the good and safety of his world.

And now, here it was, in this giant red farm, surrounded by eleven humans. He had to duck when one of them turned around to see what he had heard (he really needed to be more quiet). As he listened in on what the humans were saying, a plan was forming in his head. Clearly, the humans in red were ordered to guard the trinket from any danger. But they knew nothing about him. He will wait until nightfall when the humans will be scarce awake in this farm and he will get the trinket out of the glass case. Sure there may be _some_ humans awake, but he’ll need to act quickly if he wanted a chance to get the trinket before _they_ do.

He watched the humans slowly leave the room, until only he was left. With his plan now fully formed and thought through, the creature chuckled to himself, “Victini, you are a genius.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...So, yeah, in case you're wondering, this fic takes place during and after The Contract comic. That's all I have to say.

**Author's Note:**

> Recently, I rediscovered my love for Team Fortress 2, so I've been thinking up stories for that. Plus, with the upcoming release of Pokemon Super Mystery Dungeon, this came into my head: a Team Fortress 2/Pokemon Mystery Dungeon crossover fic. This is something I've been actually considering writing for some time, but had reservations about actually doing it because I know most people aren't very fond of crossover fanfics, and most of them come out crappy.  
> And yet, here I am actually doing it. The perfect way to start the new year is to do what you've considered doing since last year and prepare yourself for the fireworks. So, you can blame my hyperactive imagination for this.  
> Also, the narration may seem a bit...off...to you. If you're familiar with Lemmony Snicket's a Series of Unfortunate Events, then you probably have an idea on where the narration is going.


End file.
